


A Regular Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

by out_there



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-13
Updated: 2006-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 09:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When stuck in a time dilation field, Rodney learns Mad Ninja Skillz.  (Crackfic, obviously.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Regular Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slodwick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slodwick/gifts), [Spaggel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaggel/gifts).



> Crackfic, obviously, and written for [](http://spaggel.livejournal.com/profile)[**spaggel**](http://spaggel.livejournal.com/) and [](http://slodwick.livejournal.com/profile)[**slodwick**](http://slodwick.livejournal.com/) who totally [promised art in return](http://slodwick.livejournal.com/650098.html). Thanks to [](http://justabi.livejournal.com/profile)[**justabi**](http://justabi.livejournal.com/) for betaing.

Rodney spent the first week complaining. And the second week. And the third.

By the fourth week, he'd worked through calculations, estimated the time differential and realized that as far as the rest of his team was concerned, he'd taken a wrong turn in one of the outer corridors of the abandoned temple and had been missing for possibly an hour.

Time dilation fields sucked.

John had been stuck in one for six months, but the team had been aware something was wrong the second he was sucked into it *and* he'd had both Rodney and Radek working to get him out. Whereas Rodney had to rely on Teyla or Ronon to notice something was wrong, drag the Colonel away from the Distant-Grandfather-of-the-Puddlejumper that they'd found and send a message back to Elizabeth. She'd then have to get Zelenka to come, which was a ten hour Puddlejumper ride if you flew at John's favored speed of "ridiculously, lethally fast".

Rodney was going to be stuck here for years.

***

It took Rodney another week to stumble across the temple. It was tall and felt vaguely Buddhist -- or like the set design for "The Golden Child" -- and went from empty to full of black-clad martial artists in the time it took Rodney to say, "Oh, come on-- Arrrrgh!"

As he breathed deeply, they stood still and silent. They were dressed in black, and the only skin Rodney could see was through the small eye-slit, bronze skin and dark, empty eyes. Some of them held small, shiny knives that would enchant Ronon but left Rodney panicked and scared.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack! What the hell do you think you are? We all know ninjas are automatically cool, but this is ridiculous."

One dark figure stepped forward. He (or maybe she) looked the same as all the others. "You came here to train," he/she said, soft enough that Rodney still couldn't identify gender.

"Um, no."

"Those who come through the portal come for two reasons. Either to train and join us, or to die."

"In that case," Rodney said quickly, "I definitely came here to train."

***

Rodney had never been particularly graceful or coordinated, but he was a determined student. It only took him fourteen months to achieve the status of Datsun (or "Ninja Warrior" as Rodney termed it). And it only took him another seven to gain the wisdom and patience to know how to leave.

As with most things in the temple, the goodbyes were quiet and brief. The distant sound of low bells sounded as he left.

He walked through the field's barrier to find Radek kneeling over his laptop and John pacing behind him, talking to Teyla (or Ronon) over the radio. John glanced over at the doorway, then swiveled his head back to stare at Rodney.

"Rodney, you're--" John didn't say 'safe' and he didn't say 'back', but Rodney could read those in his relieved, thankful expression, "--a ninja?"

Rodney looked down, remembering that he was wearing the black garb of the temple. "You expected one outfit to last me for two years? I know the science uniforms are top-quality, Colonel, but that's asking too much."

"You spent two years, there?" Radek asked, pushing up his glasses. "How did you survive?"

"The corridor leads to a temple, which leads to an outside area with crops and herds. It's enough to support a small population of ninjas. Having said that, I would trade all my worldly possessions for a chocolate powerbar right now." Rodney held out a hand, making a grabby gesture at the Colonel.

"How did you survive?" John asked, handing over a powerbar. It was nice to see that months of training John hadn't been wasted.

Rodney unwrapped the powerbar and took a big mouthful before replying. "I studied, I trained. I learned how to use nunchucks."

"Really?"

"I'm a regular Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle."

***

For some reason, Rodney got the impression that no one actually believed him. Oh, sure, they believed that he'd spent a certain amount of time trapped in the time dilation field. They knew that he'd stayed with some deadly and/or religious locals, and had come back wearing black.

But no one actually believed him when said he knew nine different ways to kill a man and could walk on dried leaves without making a sound.

It had something to do with the way that he'd rushed back to his laptop as soon as he got on the Puddlejumper. He'd spent two years without a computer, without email, without *Solitaire* for heavens sakes. Of course his top priority would be reminding himself of all the research he was supposed to know backwards and forwards.

He didn't really care that Elizabeth almost snorted when she read his mission report, or that John made stupid reptile jokes on the way home. At least Carson believed him.

"You're in better shape than," Carson paused, blinking at the scanner results, "well, than you've ever been. At least since I've known you."

"So you believe me?" Rodney had asked.

"I believe that you've spent over a year having regular exercise and a healthy diet," Carson dithered. "But you're certainly fit for off-world duty."

It was the off-world duty that convinced John.

Technically, it was when the inhabitants of MX3-892 decided that the Genii reward for their capture was too generous to refuse. They were surrounded by twenty guards armed with swords. Ronon had wanted to attack, John had been wary of the blades and Teyla had been saying something about caution versus violence when Rodney did a jumping somersault over one guard, used a spinning kick to knock out two of them, and grabbed the sword from the guy behind him.

John stared at him -- until Rodney yelled, "What are you guys waiting for?" and then it was on.

They fought until they were the only four left standing. John took down two, Teyla knocked out five and Ronon got six. Rodney only got seven. His teachers would have been disappointed.

He'd over-balanced on one of the kick-punch-kick combinations. If he hadn't stabbed the four guard quite so hard he would have kept his balance and easily gotten nine.

Then Rodney noticed the way John was staring at him, red lips slightly open, eyes a little glazed. Rodney turned around to make sure there wasn't an extra guard sneaking up behind him.

"What?"

John blinked and the stunned expression was gone. "I really didn't think you could do that stuff."

"You were very impressive," Teyla said with a sweet bow of her head. "However, now might be a good time to leave."

***

John's strangely stunned look kept reappearing.

When Rodney practiced with Teyla -- one stick against her two, and he still beat her three times out of four -- John would find some excuse to watch. He'd lean against the wall with his arms crossed, watching Rodney with that same open-mouthed, awed expression.

Rodney could understand. He was pretty sure he'd watched the Datsun with the same expression the first time he saw them train.

Rodney couldn't understand why John kept watching him like that when he wasn't training. He'd be doing completely ordinary things like eating, complaining at a meeting or stopping the city's sudden urge to self-destruct, and John would be there. Watching. Occasionally even licking his lips.

Then Rodney understood. After all, there was a reason he was labeled a genius.

"You think ninjas are hot," he accused the next time John appeared in the training room to watch him stretch.

John's eyes went wide. "What? Me? No. Of course not."

"So if I told you I could throw knives at you and leave your outline on the wall, without cutting your clothes or hair, you'd have no reaction?"

The glazed, lips-parted expression came back. "Huh?"

Rodney rolled his eyes and walked over to John. He could have done something impressive, something with flips and turns and a couple of kicks, but he didn't need to rub in the fact that he'd won.

He leaned into John's personal space, getting up close to him. "Do you have any idea how flexible I am these days?"

The tips of John's ears went satisfyingly red. "It's possibly crossed my mind."

"Good," Rodney said and showed John how well ninjas kiss.


End file.
